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Motor Boat Boys Down the Danube
or, Four Chums Abroad
Motor Boat Boys Down the Danube
or, Four Chums Abroad
Motor Boat Boys Down the Danube
or, Four Chums Abroad
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Motor Boat Boys Down the Danube or, Four Chums Abroad

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Motor Boat Boys Down the Danube
or, Four Chums Abroad

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    Motor Boat Boys Down the Danube or, Four Chums Abroad - Louis Arundel

    Project Gutenberg's Motor Boat Boys Down the Danube, by Louis Arundel

    This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with

    almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or

    re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included

    with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org

    Title: Motor Boat Boys Down the Danube

           or, Four Chums Abroad

    Author: Louis Arundel

    Release Date: February 25, 2013 [EBook #42191]

    Language: English

    *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOTOR BOAT BOYS DOWN THE DANUBE ***

    Produced by Donald Cummings and the Online Distributed

    Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net


    They passed many famous old castles


    MOTOR BOAT BOYS

    DOWN THE DANUBE

    OR

    Four Chums Abroad

    BY

    LOUIS ARUNDEL

    MADE IN U. S. A.

    M. A. DONOHUE & COMPANY

    CHICAGO        NEW YORK


    Copyright, 1915

    M. A. DONOHUE & CO.

    CHICAGO

    Made in U. S. A.


    CONTENTS


    The Motorboat Boys Down the Danube

    CHAPTER I

    FOUR CHUMS ABROAD

    So this is the famous Budapest, is it, the twin cities of the blue Danube we’ve been hearing so much about?

    Huh! doesn’t strike me as so very much of a wonderful place. When you come to think of it, little old New York and Brooklyn can beat it all hollow so far as bustle and business go; even Chicago would run it a hot race.

    Now that’s just like you, George Rollins, always ready to find fault, and throw cold water on everything. No wonder they’ve called you ‘Doubting George’ this long time back. There’s always a flaw somewhere, you believe, and so you look for it right along.

    Between you and me, Buster, I don’t think he ever will be cured of that nasty habit. Why can’t he see the bright side of things once in a while, and be an optimist, like our chum and commodore, Jack Stormways?

    Oh, you ought to know by this time, Josh, a leopard can’t change its spots. I reckon our friend George here has spasms of reform once in just so often; but his weakness is ground in, and his resolves collapse, so he goes back to his old ways again.

    You don’t say, Buster? Kindly take pity on my ignorance and tell me what there is so wonderful about this old Hungarian capital perched on the banks of the Danube and joined by bridges? I’m willing to have the scales taken from my eyes.

    Oh, well, first there’s the river itself, not dirty water like most of our streams over in the States, but clear, and almost the color of the blue sky overhead.

    Sounds fine, Buster. Good for you; go ahead and open his blind eyes some more. It was always George’s way to have his nose down over the engine of his Wireless motorboat, and never see a blessed thing around him. Hit him again for his mother, Buster.

    Then look at the clear atmosphere; the picturesque buildings hanging over the river banks; the queer shaped boats running back and forth; the remarkable costumes of these Magyars; and last, but far from least, that glorious August sunset painting the little clouds in the west crimson and green and gold. I tell you it’s a scream of a place, if you’ve got any eyes in your head.

    Buster, you’re a wonder at word painting, though I reckon you cribbed some of that stuff from the guide book. What do you say to it now, old If and But and Maybe?

    Why, it looks good enough, I own up, fellows, but chances are all this is only on the surface. Scratch the veneer off when you go ashore to-morrow, and prowl around, and you’ll find Budapest just as rotten at the core as Chicago.

    "Don’t waste any more words on the growler, Buster. There’s such a thing as casting pearls before swine, you know—not saying that our chum here is really and truly a hog; but all the same he grunts like one. Let’s talk about our own affairs."

    Wonder if Jack will fetch a sheaf of letters back from the postoffice? And say, I’m just a little mite anxious to learn how that spat between Serbia and Austria is going to turn out.

    All of us are, Buster, and have been ever since we read how the Grand Duke who was the latest heir to the Austrian throne after Francis Joseph was murdered with his wife by some Serbian hothead conspirators.

    Oh, as far as that goes, Josh, I figure that the game little bantam will have to take water and back down, after all this strutting around, just to show that Serbians have pluck.

    Don’t be too sure of that, fellows, put in George; you mustn’t forget that Russia, yes, and France, too, are back of Serbia. There may be something more come out of this rattling of sabres in their scabbards than only a tempest in a teapot.

    Then it would be Russia and France against the two Teuton States, remarked the boy answering to the suggestive name of Buster; and knowing how the Kaiser has been getting his country ready for a scrap this long while, I’d bet on them to turn the trick.

    George, despite his failings, seemed to have read up on the matter and be pretty well posted on facts.

    But there’s always a big chance it wouldn’t stop there, he announced, with an air of importance; other countries would sooner or later be drawn into the scramble, because everybody believes there’s going to be an Armageddon or great world war before the era of peace finally comes along.

    Just what do you mean? demanded Josh.

    There’s Great Britain, for instance; she’s bound to France in some way, and may have to shy her castor into the ring. Then her ally in the East, Japan, may choose to knock out Germany’s holding in China, just to oblige. Besides, Italy must show her hand, and for one I can’t believe she’ll stand for her old enemy, Austria. And last, but not least, there’s Turkey, hand in glove with Germany, besides all those scrappy little Balkan States, from Greece to Bulgaria and Rumania, who will fight just as they think their interests lie.

    Whee! but it would be a grand smash-up if all that comes off! ejaculated Buster. I’d sure hate to pay the bills. It’d take me some time to get enough of the long green together I sure reckon.

    Seems to me it’s high time for Jack to be showing up, ventured Josh. I hope he hasn’t run up against any trouble, being unable to speak even ten words of German, while the Magyar tongue is a sealed book to him.

    I hinted to Jack that perhaps I’d better be the one to go, said George, modestly, because I know German fairly well; but he only laughed, and said there were lots of ways of communicating with a Hungarian as long as both parties had their hands to use and could wink and nod.

    Oh, well, while we’re waiting for him here on our old powerboat that we chartered, said Buster, with a resigned air, I’m going to take time to make out a list of groceries we want to lay in while we’re at the capital. Goodness knows if we’ll have a half-way decent chance to buy anything worth eating again before we strike the Serbian border, and then push on through Rumania to the Black Sea.

    George and Josh also sought comfortable seats where they could lounge and watch in a lazy fashion the bustling scene around them; for there were dozens of quaint sights to be seen if one only used his eyes.

    While the three lads are thus employed, awaiting the coming of their comrade who had gone to get their mail at the general postoffice, a few words of explanation concerning them may not come amiss.

    These four boys belonged to a motorboat club over in the Middle West, their home being on the upper Mississippi River. There were two other members, who had not made the trip abroad, by name Herb Dickson and Jimmy Brannagan, the latter a ward of Jack Stormways’ father.

    Buster, of course, had another name, which was Nicholas Longfellow. Nature had in a way played a sad joke on the boy, for, while a Longfellow by family relation, he was also pudgy and fat, always wheezing when exerting himself, but as jolly as could be, full of good nature, and willing to go to any trouble to help a friend, yes, or even an enemy.

    Josh Purdue had a strain of the Yankee in him, for he was as sharp as a steel trap, though perfectly honest. As an all-round comrade Josh could not very well be excelled.

    George Rollins was a good-enough chap too, though he complained at times, and was so inclined to want to be shown that his friends had dubbed him Old Missouri and Doubting George.

    These six boys had gone through a good many lively times together, as they possessed three motorboats of different models, called the Wireless, a cracky craft built for racing, and which gave George, the skipper, much trouble; the Tramp, which Jack commanded; and the beamy Comfort, run by Herb Dickson.

    It would be utterly impossible for us to undertake to mention a tithe of their interesting and thrilling escapades while cruising in these boats. If the reader who has made their acquaintance for the first time in this volume desires to know more about these happenings, he is referred to the six earlier books in the Motorboat Boys’ Series, all of which can be easily procured.

    As to just how the interesting quartette of wide-awake American boys came to be running down the historical Danube River in the late summer of nineteen-fourteen, that can be easily explained.

    Some of their parents were well-to-do, and as school would not begin this year until some time in October or November, it was at first suggested in a spirit of fun, and then debated as an actual possibility, that they coax their folks to let them go abroad for a season.

    Needless to say that as the lads had considerable money in the treasury, thanks to their having been instrumental in capturing some bold bank robbers who had run away with the funds of an institution, they were finally able to gain their folks’ consent.

    Then came the question of what they would like to do most of all. By this time they had come to be such cruisers that they could not bear the thought of following in the footsteps of the general run of European tourists. Any one could read all about the cities in the magazine accounts, as well as the many books of foreign travel.

    It was Jack who made a startling proposition that caught the fancy of the other three from the first.

    He had lately been reading an account of a canoe trip made by an English gentleman all the way down the Danube from its source in Germany not far from the Rhine, through Austria-Hungary, along the Serbian border, and then through Rumania until he finally reached the Black Sea, and brought up at Constantinople.

    The account was so vividly written up that it appealed strongly to Jack, and his proposition was that they make their way to some place further down the beautiful river than his starting point, charter some kind of a motorboat, and continue the voyage. They could thus get to the Turkish capital in good time after a most interesting trip, take a steamer to London, and come home in that way.

    Well, the more they talked it over the stronger grew the inclination to enjoy a water voyage through a most interesting country, the praises of which they had seen sung in many an account they managed to unearth at the library.

    Eventually this was just what the daring quartette had done. They were lucky enough to get hold of a pretty fair powerboat that would accommodate four sleepers with some crowding. This they had fitted up to suit themselves, for long experience in camping out had made them wise in many particulars. And, Buster considered this the most important part of the whole business, they had found a little kerosene blue-flame stove something like those they owned at home, upon which many of their future meals were likely to be cooked.

    The party had only been a short time on the way when they brought up at the Hungarian capital, where it was planned to spend a couple of days prying around; for they had reason to believe they would run across no large city save Belgrade in Serbia until they crossed the Black Sea and came to Constantinople.

    As often happens, the best laid plans often go astray, and, looking back to former scenes, the four chums could pick out several other instances when this had happened to them.

    Buster had just finished his long list of eatables, in which he jotted down everything that appealed to his voracious appetite, when Josh was heard saying he had glimpsed Jack coming. All of them therefore jumped up to greet the bearer of the mailbag, being greatly interested in news from the home folks.

    Something has happened, as sure as you live! exclaimed Josh as the fourth member of the little party drew closer; look at Jack’s face, will you? He couldn’t be more solemn if he had been told he was going to be hung to-morrow.

    No bad news from across the sea, I hope, Jack? faltered Buster.

    Jack Stormways, who was a resolute looking young fellow, a born leader among boys, shook his head and allowed a faint smile to steal across his sober countenance.

    I’m glad to say it isn’t that, fellows, he told them; but all Budapest is in a frightful uproar just now, and it’s a question if our lovely voyage doesn’t come to a sudden end right here.

    Great Cæsar’s ghost! What’s happened now, Jack? cried Josh, looking alarmed.

    Only this, and you can guess what it means in Europe, Jack announced. Germany declared war on Russia last night, and her army is said to be already marching into neutral Belgium to strike France in the back, and take Paris!


    CHAPTER II

    THE NEWS OF WAR AT BUDAPEST

    When Jack made this astounding statement the other three stared at him as though they could hardly believe he was not joking. But then Jack seldom attempted to play a practical prank; besides, they could see that he was seriously disposed, and evidently grappling with one of the largest propositions that had ever faced him.

    Then it means a world war has begun, does it? gasped Buster presently, when he could catch his breath again.

    That’s what it’s bound to result in, Jack told him. The cry of ‘wolf’ has been heard for the last time, and now the beast has come!

    But will Great Britain and all the other nations jump in? demanded George.

    Not jump in, but find themselves dragged in, in spite of their horror of war. This thing has been hanging fire a long while, but every little while there would be signs of what lay under the surface. Lots of people predicted it was bound to come sooner or later, and that the destinies of every world power would have to be settled once and for all by the sword.

    Then all other wars will be baby play beside this one, Josh declared, "with the wonderful modern arms they’ve got. Millions of men must be killed before the end

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